Chapter 2 - YOU’RE GOING TO BE MY WIFE
I woke to the sound of rain against hospital glass.
For several seconds, I thought I was still in the sunroom.
Then pain reminded me otherwise.
My shoulder felt packed with broken glass.
My ribs burned every time I breathed.
My lower back was wrapped so tightly I could barely move.
A monitor beeped beside me.
Someone sat in the chair near the window.
Victor Romano.
No guards.
No expensive coat.
No icy expression.
Just Victor in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, his head lowered and both hands clasped between his knees.
I stared at him.
“You look terrible.”
His head lifted.
For one second, relief crossed his face so openly that I almost thought I imagined it.
Then the mask returned.
“You were shot three times.”
“I noticed.”
His mouth almost moved.
Almost a smile.
Then I remembered Leo.
“Where is he?”
“Safe.”
“Is he hurt?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
Victor’s eyes held mine.
“I swear.”
I closed my eyes.
Only then did I breathe properly.
Victor watched me.
“You almost died.”
“I was there.”
“I know.”
His voice sharpened.
“I watched them pull three bullets out of you.”
I opened my eyes again.
“Why are you here?”
He stood.
That was when I noticed the room.
Private suite.
Two guards outside the glass panel.
Flowers everywhere.
Even the television looked more expensive than my apartment.
Victor reached into his jacket and placed an envelope on the table.
I frowned.
“What’s that?”
“Your brother’s medical debt.”
My body went still.
“What?”
“Paid.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Victor looked confused.
Apparently people did not often reject things Victor Romano offered.
“You saved my son.”
“That does not mean you get to buy my family.”
His eyes narrowed.
“I’m not buying you.”
“Good.”
I pushed the envelope away.
“Then take it back.”
He stared at me for several seconds.
Then, unexpectedly:
“No.”
I almost laughed despite the pain.
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’m told.”
He pulled the chair closer.
Then said the words I thought pain medication had made me imagine.
“You’re going to be my wife.”
I stared.
“You need sleep.”
“I’m serious.”
“That’s worse.”
He remained expressionless.
I tried to sit higher and regretted it immediately.
“You cannot propose marriage because I got shot.”
“It wasn’t a proposal.”
“Excuse me?”
“It was a statement.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
It hurt horribly.
“Stop.”
Victor leaned forward.
“What?”
“Laughing?”
“Moving.”
He adjusted my pillow carefully.
Too carefully for a man whose reputation included making enemies disappear.
I watched him.
“Why marriage?”
His face changed.
Something strategic returned.
“Because whoever ordered that attack now knows you matter to Leo.”
“So?”
“So you are no longer invisible.”
That sentence chilled me more than the hospital room.
Victor continued.
“The men who attacked the estate failed to kill Leo. They will look for another weakness.”
“And you think marrying me makes me safer?”
“It makes touching you an act of war.”
I stared.
“Victor, your wife died because she was married to you.”
Silence.
The words were cruel.
True.
His face hardened, but he did not look away.
“Yes.”
“Then why would I become your next wife?”
He had no answer.
Good.
Then:
“Because I can protect you.”
I shook my head.
“You could not protect your first wife.”
That landed harder.
Victor stood.
For a moment, I thought he would leave.
Instead he walked to the window.
“My wife, Elena, died because I ignored a warning.”
I said nothing.
“She wanted to cancel a dinner.”
He looked out at the rain.
“I told her security had cleared the route.”
His jaw tightened.
“I was wrong.”
His voice dropped.
“She died in my car.”
Now I understood something.
His proposal was not romance.
It was panic disguised as control.
Victor wanted to put me inside the strongest wall he knew.
His name.
His house.
His power.
“Marriage does not make people safe,” I said quietly.
He turned.
“No.”
“Then don’t ask me to marry you for security.”
“I didn’t ask.”
I gave him a look.
“Right. Your royal decree.”
His mouth twitched.
Then the door opened.
Leo ran in.
A guard tried to stop him.
Victor waved him off.
The boy climbed onto the chair beside my bed.
His eyes were swollen from crying.
“Anna.”
That was my name.
Anna Mercer.
Leo took my hand.
“You got hurt.”
“I’m okay.”
“You lied.”
Victor looked at me.
I looked at Leo.
“What?”
“You’re not okay.”
Fair.
“I’m getting better.”
He stared at my bandages.
Then pulled something from his pocket.
A crushed butterscotch candy.
He placed it in my palm.
“For later.”
My throat closed.
Victor turned away.
Leo whispered:
“Daddy said you saved me.”
I squeezed his fingers.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
He frowned.
“I know.”
Children understood things adults complicated.
Then Leo asked:
“Are you coming home?”
I looked at Victor.
He did not speak.
Smart.
I answered:
“Not yet.”
Leo nodded.
Then:
“Can you come when you’re better?”
I could not say no to him.
“We’ll see.”
Victor watched.
The door opened again.
This time, his consigliere, Gabriel DeLuca, entered.
His face was grave.
“Victor.”
“What?”
Gabriel looked at me, then Leo.
Victor understood.
“Take Leo outside.”
Leo protested.
Victor kissed his forehead.
“Five minutes.”
Once Leo left, Gabriel lowered his voice.
“We found the SUV.”
“Bodies?”
“Two.”
“Others?”
“Gone.”
Victor’s eyes became ice again.
“Who?”
Gabriel hesitated.
“That’s the problem.”
He placed a photograph on my bedside table.
A dead attacker.
I barely looked.
Victor did.
Then stopped.
“What?”
Gabriel said:
“He worked for us.”
Victor’s expression did not change.
“Name.”
“Dominic Russo.”
Victor knew him.
Apparently well.
Gabriel continued.
“He was assigned to internal estate security until three months ago.”
Inside job.
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“Who reassigned him?”
Gabriel placed another sheet down.
Victor read the signature.
Then looked at me.
For the first time, I saw uncertainty in his eyes.
“Who?” I asked.
Gabriel answered.
May you like
“Victor’s younger brother.”
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